


Toy Story

by UP2L8



Series: Sex Shop AU [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 08:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UP2L8/pseuds/UP2L8
Summary: “Can I help you?” Ed asked, with just a hint of ‘let’s get this over with’ mixed in to his business tone to make it clear that he had better things to do than tall dark strangers.“I’m sure you can,” Sex Voice answered, with just enough suggestive innuendo mixed in to make Ed want to punch him in the throat. “I’d like to speak to the manager.”





	Toy Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyFandomCausesHanaji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFandomCausesHanaji/gifts).



> You can thank [MyFandomCausesHanaji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFandomCausesHanaji/pseuds/MyFandomCausesHanaji%20/) for this. I've been in a real slump for a long time, and they advised me to 'just post smth' and see what happens. Good advice. Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates, Happy Holiday to everyone who has one, and best wishes to everyone else. :)

”Excuse me, beautiful,” the deep, sensual baritone purred, and as pleasing as that voice was to his ear, Ed defaulted to his usual response.

Without looking up from his textbook, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the sign he had typed up, printed off, and tacked to the wall behind the cash register ten minutes into his first shift on the job, some two months ago. 

The sign advised, in bright red, 72 point Times New Roman, “The staff is not for sale. This is your only warning.” 

Mr. Sex Voice was quiet for a moment, presumably reading the sign. Or maybe he had been distracted by the artfully arranged selection of 11 inch squirting King Cocks, each sporting a little Santa hat on its ‘head’, displayed under the sign. Most people were. 

When too much time had passed and he could feel the customer’s eyes on him, Ed looked up with a scowl. 

Dark hair. Dark eyes. Strongly masculine of feature making him more handsome than pretty. Not freakishly tall, but taller than Ed, damn it. Casually dressed, but looking sharp all the same in gently faded blue denim and a dark blue Eddie Bauer bomber jacket. Age wise, Ed put him in the old enough to know better but young enough not to care category - late twenties to early thirties. Just Ed’s type, except for the overconfident smirk. Ed was going to do his best to wipe that off before this asshole left the store. Just for kicks. 

“Can I help you?” Ed asked, with just a hint of ‘let’s get this over with’ mixed in to his business tone to make it clear that he had better things to do than tall dark strangers. 

“I’m sure you can,” Sex Voice answered, with just enough suggestive innuendo mixed in to make Ed want to punch him in the throat. “I’d like to speak to the manager.” 

Whoa, a new record. It usually took at least five minutes before a customer decided to make a complaint against him. This was, what, two? Less? Ed smiled with satisfaction, pleased that he had taken his obnoxiousness quotient to a new level. If nothing else, this job had been the ideal training ground for honing his inner brat. 

A solid ninety percent of the customers who came through the doors of Pothos Boutique were normal, civilized people. Men and women, they came in either out of curiosity, or in hopes of finding something that might rev up their sex lives. It was the other ten percent, the ones that thought working in an adult toy store made you an easy target for their insecurities, who gave Ed the opportunity to poke figurative holes in a few douche bags just to see what might leak out. It was one of his unofficial duties, and he was more than happy to do it. 

Working at Pothos wasn’t the best job on the planet, but retail was retail. The wage was minimum and the hours long, but working at an adult novelty store was a surprisingly good fit for Ed. Anichka had been very reluctant to hire him, and as the only male employee he pulled all of the evening shifts, but that meshed with his schedule so he was fine with it. His female coworkers were relieved to have a man in the store on the late shift as well. His mere presence tended to keep most of the more aggressive patrons manageable, or so the ladies informed him, and that was better than regularly treating some handsy creep to a face full of insect repellant, though not nearly as ironic.

“The manager won’t be in until 6,” Ed said, glancing at the wall clock. Ten minutes. “Feel free to wait.” Ed turned his attention back to his coursework.

And of course the man didn’t wander around the store while he waited, checking out the merchandise like a normal customer. Nope. Sex Voice leaned against the counter, checking out Ed instead, though not overtly or rudely. Ed ignored him until he noticed that the asshole was trying to see what Ed was reading. Ed tipped the book to make it even more difficult for him to do so.

Anichka came in to the merry jingle of the brass door balls, and immediately locked eyes on Sex Voice. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Mustang,” she greeted, her lightly accented voice low and seductive. “You’re early. I hope you weren’t waiting long.” 

“Not at all, Ms. Ivanova. I’ve only just arrived,” he returned, walking over with his hand extended. 

Anichka shook it with a firm, two handed grip. “That’s good,” she said, holding Mustang’s hand just little too long with a coy smile on her glossy lips. “I wouldn’t want our first encounter to get off on the wrong foot. And please do call me Anichka. It is my hope that the arrangements between Pothos Boutique and Whispers will prove to be mutually satisfying.”

Ed kept his snort internal. He could understand the attraction, but he’d never seen Ani on the hunt before. Mustang better watch out; Pothos’ manager was one Belarusian cougar that would happily eat him alive. 

The door balls jingled again and a nervous woman stepped inside from the cold, eyes widening as she took in the festively decorated inflatable love dolls straddling the Fetish Fever Love Lounger just inside. Ed got up to offer a warm and friendly greeting before she bolted right back out the door. 

Within the course of half an hour, Ed learned that: 

1) The woman’s name was Rose; 

2) She was 29 years old; 

3) She had been happily married for three years to a guy named Cain; 

4) Cain had been killed in a motorcycle accident two years ago; 

5) Rose was currently in an intimate relationship with her minister, an older man who had helped her survive the crippling grief of losing the love of her life; 

6) The preacher was currently having some trouble getting it up, and Rose thought that a little spice in the bedroom might help. 

Bartenders and sex toy salespeople – they heard it all. 

By catching bits of the conversation between Ani and Mustang, Ed had also learned that Pothos’ owner had negotiated a deal with the high end, members only cabaret slash strip club owned by Mustang’s aunt. If there was one thing Ed was good at – and there were quite a few things, actually – it was multitasking. 

He’d also noticed that Mustang had been shooting glances his way while easily holding up his end of the conversation with Ani. Apparently Ed wasn’t the only one practiced in the art of multitasking.

Rose left the store with some personal advice to talk to her partner about setting important boundaries before getting busy, and a decent bondage starter kit. Thank you Fifty Shades of Grey. While the books and subsequent movies were a pile of shit that likely set feminism back fifty years, which was unfortunate, they had been good for the adult novelty business – and probably for sick, abusive misogynists too, which was also unfortunate. 

Ed returned to his textbook, but his attention was on Ani and Mustang as they discussed products and their pros and cons. Why would a strip club want to make a long term deal with a sex toy dealer? Sure, Pothos carried a fair selection of lingerie, and their wide variety of erotic role play costumes and accessories was pretty impressive, but didn’t strippers buy their own equipment? Ed had heard rumors about the special services Whispers provided for their card carrying members. If they were true, then this made more sense. Not that Ed gave much of a shit, since rumor also had it that the club’s employees spoke very highly of their boss lady.

“Edward,” Ani said, interrupting his thoughts, “would you please fetch the box marked ‘Whispers’ from the back for Mr. Mustang?” 

Ed nodded and lay his book aside once more, noticing that Ani’s demeanor had gone from seductive to business friendly. She had obviously become aware that Mustang’s preferences trended out of her range – probably when she had noticed him unobtrusively checking out Ed’s ass in the dressing room mirror while he had been helping Rose with her purchases.

The small backroom held an assortment of boxes, but the one Ed was looking for was right on top of the stack by the door. It wasn’t very large – about the size of a small microwave – and not very heavy. Returning to the showroom, he handed it over to Mustang. 

“Thank you.” The sex voice was back. Mustang's fingers even managed to brush Ed’s hands as he took the box. 

“Your hands are cold. Keep them to yourself.” 

Mustang did not let the rebuke discourage him. “Sorry,” he said with a smirk, not sorry at all. “As our hopefully ongoing business relationship dictates, I will try to follow your expert advice. Or at least warm my hands in case I fail.” 

“That’s pretty fancy talk for a guy holding a box of assorted dicks,” Ed observed. 

“That’s a pretty astute observation for a guy selling them,” Mustang returned, unfazed. 

“Be sure to mention the employee discount to your staff,” Ani cut in, probably for Ed’s benefit. “I’m sure they will appreciate our fine selection of erotic attire.” 

“I’m sure they will,” Mustang replied, and with a wink, finally turned those dark, smoldering eyes away. “Thank you, Ms. Ivanova.” 

“My pleasure, Mr. Mustang.” 

Business concluded, Mustang lingered, pretending to admire the mistletoe decorations hanging over the plexiglas cabinet where the Twerking Butt was on display. Anichka glanced at Ed with the same expression that he usually gave the girls on his shift when someone in the store was acting weird: the ‘Do I need to ask him to leave?’ look. Ed grinned and gave her a tiny shake of his head, just as Mustang seemed to come to a decision and turned abruptly towards him. 

And crashed into the Christmas tree by the counter, tastefully garlanded with anal beads and decked out with Fleshlights and Lelo vibrators, knocking it to the floor. The beads and dildos bounced and scattered merrily, and the artificial vaginas and anuses of celebrated porn stars clattered and rolled to every corner of the store.

Mustang was a study in mortification. Ed just managed to stifle a bray of laughter. Anichka didn’t. 

“I’m so sorry!” Mustang crouched to gather up the scattered decorations. 

Ed and Ani joined him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Anichka said, unable to wipe the wide grin from her face. “Ed and I can take care of this.” 

“No, it’s my mess,” Mustang said, rising to place a handful of beads on the counter and stand the tree back up. 

It didn’t take long for the three of them to set everything back in order. The whole time Mustang appeared to be on the edge of saying something to Ed, but didn’t seem to know how to work it loose. 

“What?” Ed’s patience finally slipped. 

Even Mustang’s deer in headlights expression was attractive. Or more accurately, cute. He glanced at the sign behind the counter. The warning sign. 

Ed growled. “What do you want?” 

The man took a deep breath. “Coffee, actually.” Mustang offered a hopeful smile. “I’d like to take you out for some. One day. Soon.” 

Huh. His sincere voice was somehow even more enticing than his sex voice. 

But as tempting as it surprisingly was, there was no way Ed could accept the invitation. Al was in the hospital again, and when Ed wasn’t at work, in the library, or on campus, that was where he needed to be. He was running on about three hours of sleep most days, and really couldn’t spare the time. There was Ed’s extensive collection of scars to consider as well. Sure, it was only coffee, but if it went well, there would be more coffee, and then dinner, and then other getting-to-know-you stuff, and at some point the clothes would be coming off, and Ed was just tired. It was too soon. His last relationship had been beyond a disaster, and he was still far too brittle to trust some guy he met in a sex shop, however attractive and charming he might be. Not even for coffee. 

No, it wasn’t worth the stress, ultimately. Ed needed to shut this Mustang guy down right now, in no uncertain terms. Tell him he wasn’t interested, and make it stick. He opened his mouth. 

“I’ll think about it,” is what came out. 

Mustang beamed. Ed felt like kicking himself in the ass.


End file.
